


Fleeting Glimpses

by FoiblePNoteworthy



Series: Guilt (The Jet Adopts Zuko AU) [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Crying, Emotional Talks, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, More Fluff, Protective!Jet, Tangled (2010) References, Turtleducks, im letting people be happy today arent i nice, just in general y'know, let people hug you zuko, like this is a nice one but there's still crying, theatre nerd!zuko, yeah i needed a musical so, zuko is a small baby and i love him, zuko is made up of entirely of his issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23317522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoiblePNoteworthy/pseuds/FoiblePNoteworthy
Summary: Jet discovers the real Li, through his love for the theatre and for turtleducks. He becomes all the more determined to help him heal.It's just fluff, you guys
Relationships: Freedom Fighters & Zuko (Avatar), Jet & Zuko (Avatar), Zuko & Theatre, Zuko & Turtleducks
Series: Guilt (The Jet Adopts Zuko AU) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557868
Comments: 93
Kudos: 1125
Collections: Finished111





	1. Theatre

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in january its just been staring at me for months please take it finally
> 
> this is just part of an ongoing argument that Zuko should just be a bard or something instead of this firelord nonsense I mean does anyone think he'd actually be happy wtf are you doing iroh he's sixteen and traumatized do you want him to die you idiot

After a lifetime of only ever seeing villages of, at most, two hundred people, and spending most of it in a forest, any real city seems too big and too wealthy and too what-do-you-even- _need_ -that-for-anyway. Jet forced himself not to gape at the grandeur, not when people having this much money when others were starving should be more important than how pretty everything was.

He spotted tall houses with windows of coloured glass, shaped into pictures; some miracle of complex piping created an ever-running spring in the centre of town, one which people could not drink from, but only admire; noblewomen walked past with gemstones encrusted into their hair and silver stitchwork hemming their flowing gowns.

A big thing that he didn’t understand was people spending so much money to watch some people pretending to be other people, some of whom had actually accomplished something. What made theatre so much better than simple storytelling? Who had so much coin spare they could waste five meals’ worth on one night out?

He was somewhat surprised by the response he got when he voiced this thought.

“For most of these people,” Li said, his tone harsher than Jet had heard since that first mistrustful day, “a night at the theatre is the best night of the year. They’ll save up for months for these plays, and the actors and actresses aren’t just _pretending_ and then going home, they put in hundreds of hours of hard work for every new performance.” His normally quiet and subdued attitude was rapidly disappearing; Jet sensed he’d struck on something important. Maybe he should have seen this coming, what with how Li had stared at the posters all over town like a painting of a loved one.

“There’s singing and dancing and acrobatics,” he continued, near shouting, “They can have hundreds of lines to learn, and they’ll spend months not only learning the words but perfecting the delivery. They’ll spend hours on stage every night for weeks and weeks on end – sometimes even twice a day – controlling every aspect of their expression and movement to be as real as they can. They’re not taking people’s money and giving them something worthless in exchange, their art is their hearts and souls and-”

He stopped abruptly, passion fading from him as quickly as it had appeared, his tiny step back from Jet revealing the fear he usually kept tightly under wraps – same as every time he showed some sense of self, every time he stepped over some non-existent line, he thought that _this time_ would be the one that Jet would… _something_.

Jet had to admit, the whole ‘controlling every aspect of your expression and movement to convince someone of something’ was tricky as fuck, even when you’re trying to convince them of something that’s _true_. Something like, _‘I’m not going to hurt you’._

(Maybe Li had a point about actors.)

Jet kept his body language open, hands far from his weapons and within clear sight. He forced himself not to tense, even as the sight of a friend afraid brought out his protective instincts. He wanted to hurt whoever had scared him, and clear that look from his face. But this wasn’t an enemy he could fight.

Li was scared of _Jet_. Violence couldn’t fix that.

No matter how much it frustrated him - he wanted nothing more than just _make_ Li trust him, _make_ him trust that he’d be safe with him - giving in to the impulse to just… _Force_. Something. Would only take him further from his goal.

Instead, he had to take this slowly, and teach him again and again that he was never going to hurt him.

He first considered asking a neutral question, something like “I take it you like theatre?” but Li had never reacted well to personal questions, even those that had obvious answers – or, at least, which seemed to. So a question like that, especially about something which seemed quite important to him, personally, wasn’t on the table for the time being.

As much as he wished Li would just tell him when he didn’t want to do something, Li hated disobeying orders, (hated being anything he thought Jet didn’t want him to be,) so even though Jet always framed his questions as requests, Li only ever squirmed and tried to give him what he thought Jet wanted without actually giving him anything. He could never tell him no.

Add that to how he’d shown _emotion_ for once, and… well. Jet just had to be careful.

Or… he could cut to the chase and skip past his outburst. That had worked on occasion.

***

 _Why wasn’t he saying anything what was he thinking what was he going to do_ -

“I’m sorry, Li,” was what Jet said, in Jet’s voice (not anyone else’s, he still looked like Jet, he was still his ~~friend~~ ally/leader), actually apologetic and sincere, like he cared about Zuko’s feelings, like he actually was the one who needed to apologise.

Zuko didn’t let his expression change, couldn’t believe he’d spoken to him like that, couldn’t believe he’d let them know about such a huge weak point. ( _Did he mention his mother?_ He couldn’t remember. Everything had turned into a blur as soon as he realised who he was talking to.)

“We just don’t have the coin for us all to go – I doubt we could risk spending enough even for one ticket.” Nothing Jet was saying made any sense.

“But I bet we could sneak in easily enough, if you don’t mind the ‘theft’.”

Zuko stared at Jet for a long moment, trying to figure out what he was _actually_ saying behind the words he’d put out of his mouth. But Jet had played straight with him the second he’d asked him to and had only ever minced words when worried about Li’s reactions. Every word out of his mouth was carefully constructed, but not to hurt him, not to lie to him, but to make sure Li felt as safe as possible.

He could still be trying to draw him in to a false sense of security. But that became less and less likely – and he wanted to believe it less and less – as time went on.

Was he actually offering to sneak into the theatre to watch _‘The Tangled Treasure of the Tower’_ with him? Jet’s open expression met his, patiently waiting for him to finished processing his offer.

“When I was little,” Zuko said, caution slowing his words as he watched Jet’s face, “I always wondered what these shows would look like from above.”

Jet grinned.

***

Settled in the rafters high above the show, they could see everything the actors and stagehands were doing. It was enlightening to see how much effort was put in behind the scenes. Li had known what he was talking about earlier – these people truly cared about their craft, and put a huge amount of pride and work into making each show the best they could be.

Jet startled when the lead actress started singing. Maybe that was what Li had been on about – insisting that it was a musical and not a play – but having one of the characters randomly start singing was just… odd. He hadn’t quite believed that was a real thing.

The actress was doing a pretty good job, though – it had to be difficult to hold long notes like that while dancing, but she made it look effortless.

(Just the sheer amount of effort it must have taken just to sort out her hair _(why did she have so much of it?)_ was ridiculous. How long did she spend practising using it like a weapon for all the little stunts she did? That, if nothing else, proved what Li had said about these people’s respect for their art.)

On his left, Li leaned forward on the rafter to see her better. Underlit by the stage lights, half in shadow, he seemed to glow with sheer joy. There was something childlike in his expression, the openness, the way his entire focus was on something so banal (the way he let his guard down and trusted Jet to keep an eye out for him).

Sat on his good side, Jet was able to see the person Li would have been – was _supposed_ to _be –_ had his life not been torn apart.

Jet had never seen him so content; even when asleep he seemed tense (not all that surprising, considering how he usually woke up).

Li leaned forwards further and, yeah, they were all used to high places, but seeing Li that far out put Jet’s teeth on edge. Unthinkingly, he grabbed a hold of Li’s tunic and pulled him back up to safety. A second too late he realised that was Something You Don’t Do To Li, but Li didn’t react; he just let himself be manhandled, then shifted right back into his dangerous position.

***

Li was the highlight of the show. Jet much preferred to watch Li’s reactions to everything than to watch the actual show – the way he cooed at the two protagonists’ budding romance, the way he flinched at the fight scenes and held in laughs at the silly interactions, how he swayed on the rafter next to him, unthinking of his own safety, at the last song before the first act ended.

Jet thought about that last song, about people from the harshest walks of life still holding onto hope for a better life, still daring to dream. He’d never let himself think ahead - not more than he’d needed to in order to keep his kids warm and fed and alive – had never thought about his life ten years down the line. What did he want to do? Fight the Fire Nation, of course, but was that really the best thing for him, after what happened? Shouldn’t he think beyond that?

What would make him happy in life, if the war ever ended?

He looked at his kids, on either side of him, watching the bustle of the theatre patrons below. They were happy, for the moment at least. Safe and comfortable and healthy.

What makes him happy now?

***

“What’s your dream?” Zuko heard Smellerbee whispering to Longshot. He glanced over, looking past Jet to where the pair were sat. Longshot tapped out one of his indecipherable patterns on the brim of his hat. Smellerbee leaned into his side, a gentle affectionate nudge, before leaning back out again. Apparently, Longshot was a firm believer in personal space.

“What about you, Bee?” Jet asked her, tone soft.

“I don’t really know,” Smellerbee said, “But I always thought it would be useful to know medicine. Proper medicine, y’know, not just field stuff. I’d have to learn how to read first, but…”

Jet smiled. “You’d be able to help a lot of people as a healer. I bet reading’s not that hard, if even the dumbest of nobles can do it.”

“It’s easy enough,” Zuko forced out, before he could think twice about intruding. “Once you get the basics down, you only need to do it a few minutes a day to get it properly. I could teach you some. You’re smart - you’ll pick it up quickly.”

Smellerbee looked at him, startled that he’d spoken (or maybe that he knew how to read in the first place). Zuko forced himself to stay calm – there was nothing here to hurt him, she was just looking at him. He hated how pathetic he was, barely able to handle a conversation with people who wanted to be his friends.

She looked away, maybe noticing his discomfort in his expression. She gave him a small nod of thanks at his offer but didn’t say anything, likely aware that he was at his limit.

“What about you, Jet?” she asked instead, nudging the boy next to her, easily shifting the conversation.

Jet smiled that gentle fucking smile, the one he did with his eyes - usually when he thought they weren’t looking. “I’m pretty happy with what I have just now. I’ll just… keep doing this, I suppose. Maybe in Ba Sing Se, maybe I’ll travel. Find anyone who needs me.”

 _This really is what he wants, isn’t it?_ Zuko watched Jet’s face carefully, but there was no trace of falsehood. No ulterior motives, no lies… Jet wanted to travel the country and teach kids to trust again.

Zuko averted his eyes from the trio. They could still be up to something, but it seemed less likely with every day that went by.

He didn’t want to be scared tonight, he decided, looking at the audience below, at his allies _(friends?)_ by his sides, here just for him, and shook off his doubts. He’d already spoken out of turn twice today – he’d _yelled_ at _Jet,_ for Agni’s sake – and they hadn’t done anything yet. Just for tonight, he could… _try_ to trust.

“I think my dream is theatre,” he said, like an idiot, without being asked.

Jet glanced at him, but didn’t ask anything. _Jet tries not to ask me questions, because he knows I don’t like them_ , Zuko reminded himself. _That’s why he’s not saying anything._

He knew that, of course - he practically chanted it in his head every time he said what felt like the wrong thing and his heart leapt into his throat. It was the first time he’d managed to believe it in the moment, however.

Zuko didn’t tense, and felt far too fucking proud for it.

“I used to spend my time seeking out bards,” he told them. “I’d learn their songs and their instruments and I’d join them when they performed. I made some good friends, that I’d bump into from port to port, and we’d have dances we made up together. One of my friends was helping me write songs and I wasn’t great at it but I wasn’t bad.”

He looked down at the stage, heard the music start up again to herald the next act.

“It was nice, being good at something that wasn’t fighting.”

The curtains opened below, cutting off any further conversation.

***

There was a slight moment of panic towards the end of the second act when the actors let loose dozens of flying lanterns. Li didn’t seem to realise the danger of a _light source_ coming _towards them_ as the _entire audience_ watched, wrapped up as he was in the two leads’ romantic duet (was he _crying?_ ), but it only took a little bit of nudging to get him to move with them to the edge of the huge hall where they wouldn’t be spotted.

The rushed half-panic was enough to break Jet’s immersion in the story and let him focus on other things, like the fact that Li was definitely crying. Was that supposed to happen?

“Are you alright, Li?” the other boy had never taken his eyes off of the stage, even when walking over the _really thin rafter - Li, you need to pay more attention_.

He gave a little sniff in response, rubbing at his face, seemingly only just realising he was crying. “I’m fine.” He tried to blink back his tears, but only sent more down his cheeks, too quickly to rub them all away.

“It’s just that…” Jet looked down as the actors began to sing in unison, harmonising with each other. “I’m pretty sure this is supposed to be the happy bit.”

Li scrubbed at his face, wincing as he rubbed at the edges of his scar. “Yeah, I know. I’m being stupid.”

“Nah, you're not,” Jet insisted, careful to keep his tone casual, instead of pushing him because _no, Li, you’re really not, you're allowed to feel things, don’t talk about yourself that way_ wouldn’t have gone down that easily.

“Isn’t the whole point of this to make you feel things and stuff?” he said instead, even as he knew somewhere in his gut that this wasn’t that; something was _wrong_. “You’re the theatre expert, it makes sense that you’d get more invested than us.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just.” He sat down on their new rafter at the edge, rather than waiting for the lights to clear so they could move back to the better spot. “Her people miss her so much,” he gestured to the singers below, to the lights around them, watching with wide eyes.

“They do this every year,” he said, “because they want her to come home, because they love her and miss her and she should be there, she shouldn’t be stuck so far away. She should be with them and she is _wanted_.”

And _that_ wasn’t what Jet had been expecting.

But Li wasn’t even finished, though Jet suspected that he wasn’t supposed to hear Li’s last whisper of, _“They miss her so much. She didn’t even have to_ do _anything.”_

This wasn’t about the missing princess going home or finding love or seeing the floating lights she’d been dreaming of. That wasn’t what Li saw, down there.

Jet sat himself down next to him, carefully nudging him with his knee. A twisty cocktail curled in his gut at all the implications of Li’s words - a history of nobility, in that he had, perhaps, had people he’d felt responsible for; that he couldn’t go home, be that due to the Fire Nation, as he’d always assumed, or even due to something else, worse in its own way; and his final quiet statement, and what that could mean for Li’s own family.

If there was a group of people that had the most influence over who a person was, it would be their family. If there was something wrong with _them_ , it would explain so much about Li.

Questions burned in his throat.

He knew he couldn’t ask him about any of it, not if he wanted Li to be there when they woke up the next morning.

He just pressed his side against Li as the curtains fell for another break, and the other boy slowly calmed.

“You okay now?” he asked, voice quiet enough that Li could pretend not to have heard him if he wanted to.

“Yeah.” In the shadows, Li pressed himself back into Jet, enjoying the contact, but not acknowledging or admitting to the need. (Jet took a mental note of the fact.)

Some stagehands made their way up the stairs to the rafters to take the lanterns down, in order to repair and reuse them the next show. There was another mad scramble to keep themselves hidden, Li giggling like a child sneaking pastries from the pantry, even as they were hanging by their fingers out of the window, stagehands passing by far too closely.

He’d moved past feeling sad and into giddy. He was likely just feeling emotional from everything today – just the excitement of seeing a play might be to blame for his delicate state.

 _Yeah,_ watching his friend smile, Jet let out an internal sigh of relief, _Li was okay._

When the stagehands had all left and they’d returned to their original perch, Jet asked, “So what’s the best play you’ve ever seen? You must have seen quite a few.”

Li frowned slightly as he thought, then shrugged his shoulders, the movement fluid even as they drooped again. He was so relaxed he was almost asleep. “Haven’t a clue,” he said. “There’s too many I loved too much. This one might be up there though,” he nodded towards the stage. “Depends on how it ends, though. I’m half worried I’ve spoiled you for theatre now though; any others we see have a lot to live up to.” His sleepy comfort slipped suddenly. “I mean, if you’d ever want to and if we’re still sticking together and-”

If there was one thing Jet had learned about interacting with Li, it was to never let him keep talking when he was headed into a panic. He cut him off instead, “We can check them out anyway, even if they’re not quite as good. Even a bad play has to be entertaining when we’re watching what they do backstage.”

Li blinked, then dropped back into his comfortable state almost immediately. He scowled, but it seemed almost playful. “A bad play is an affront to theatre,” he said, in half-faux, half-real offence. “Every year in the summer my mother would drag me to see The Emb– um, this terrible theatre group, and they always did the same play, and they were absolutely appalling – and the play was one of my _favourites_ , I loved to read the scrolls of it, but whenever they did it, it was-” he made an unreadable hand gesture, “and I don’t even know _how_ they did it, it was such a good story but no one there could act if their lives depended on it – _and maybe they would have if I’d known how to use my swords back then_ …”

Jet was entirely right to think that a bad play would be just as entertaining as a good one if he got to spend the whole time watching Li getting angrier at the bad acting and low budget props. He didn’t tell him that, not wanting to instigate a sulk, but a glance at the others told him they were thinking the same thing.

Li - hands waving meaninglessly, his face caught in a half smile, half scowl - kept talking right up until the curtains opened again.

***

The rest of the play was a little rough – the scene where the heroine’s fake mother turned out to be evil had Li stock still the whole way through, his hands trembling. For a moment Jet had considered suggesting that they leave, but was hoping there would be a happy ending – and if there was, he knew that Li _had_ to see it. If his assumptions about Li were even halfway true, he knew it was important for Li to see the evil parent being defeated.

(He mentally prepared himself for a sleepless night, all the same.)

He didn’t comment when Li stared openly sobbing as she returned home to her loving parents, but dared to gently rub his back. Li leaned into him, turning it into a side-hug, and Jet tried to convince himself that it was a win.

They stayed just long enough for the cast to take their bows before they left. None of them spoke on the way to their camp just outside the town, nor when they settled down for the night, Li curled up close to Song, her resting her head on his body.

In the silence just before sleep, where they could hear each other breathing, where they became less alert and each trusted in each other while they were vulnerable, Li said, “Thanks, you guys. Tonight was… I needed that.”

They slept the whole night through.

***

Li was twice as prickly as usual the next day, scowling if they so much as looked at him. Jet tried not to take it to heart - they’d got through to him once, they could do it again.

He tried not to think about how long it would be until he saw that Li again – happy and calm and open and trusting. It had taken _weeks_ just to get last night, and _that_ was practically a fluke.

 _One day,_ he promised himself, _I’ll see yesterday’s Li every day._ It would take time, and work, promises made and kept, again and again, tempers held as Li pushed as hard as he could, waiting for him to crack and prove that he was always going to hurt him, that the world really _is_ out to get him, but one day he would trust them, and one day he would be happy.

He’d seen the real Li, now. There was no chance he’d let him go.


	2. Turtleducks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so many turtleducks you guys like oh my god the plot is just turtleducks

Jet was nearly over the moon the first time Li told them, “No.” Maybe he actually would have been, had his voice not trembled while he said it. Still. Baby steps.

It didn’t seem like he’d meant to say it, either, which didn’t help, but it at least gave them a chance to prove they wouldn’t bite his head off when he did. Maybe he’d do it on purpose next time.

Maybe he’d feel safe doing it the time after that.

It was both surprising and not, his reason for finally (accidentally) standing up to them. While Jet had not expected any objections to an easy meal of succulent turtleduckling meat, Li had always been more likely to risk himself for the good of others than for himself. He’d never have objected to anything they did that affected only him, but would always object to anything that could hurt someone else. Like a turtleduck.

(Why did he have to care more about a turtleduck’s wellbeing than his own?)

Jet was glad to be able to understand his friend, but every new thing he learned just made him want to punch someone in the face. Plus, getting inside his head, seeing himself the way Li sees him, always made his skin crawl.

(He was someone who only pretended to be his friend for some nefarious reason, who could hurt him any day, who was more likely to hurt him the more he trusted him, who he should get away from before he let his guard down too much except he was too damned hungry and lonely and would probably accept a few hits if it meant he could stay here with his new friends because he’d probably deserve it anyway and _that’s not how friends work, Li._

Jet had put it all together, from the flinches and the nightmares and the scars on his back; from the unpredictable fluctuations between near subservience and extreme rudeness.)

Yeah. Thinking about _that_ set his gut churning. But there was nothing he could do to change what Li saw except prove to him over and over (and over and over for as long as it took; as long as he _could_ keep Li around for because every day he looked ready to leave _(Jet was running out of time and he’d barely made a scratch)_ ) – he had to prove to him that he was wrong, that he was _safe_ here.

It had barely been a month. Li had come out of his shell _once_ in that time. He would have to keep waiting.

“You want us to leave them alone, Li?” he clarified, drawing himself back to the present.

Li was still trembling, expression indecisive – were the turtleducks lives worth risking Jet’s wrath?

_(Why can’t you just trust me not to hurt you?)_

But he clenched his fists by his side and said, “Yes. We can… we can find something else to eat.”

Jet nodded, forcing down the wet emotion at the milestone, glancing at the others to make sure they’d back him up. They did. “Okay. We’ll keep looking.”

As much as he wanted to, Jet knew not to push further than that – Rules of Li Numbers Four and Five: Don’t Ask Questions; Don’t Push Him When He Does Something He Thinks He Isn’t Supposed To Do.

He wished he could read; then he could write these down.

***

Taking care of Li was harder than anything he’d done before – and Jet had kept toddlers alive in treehouses while fighting miniature battles with soldiers down below.

It took a monumental effort to manage his expressions on a near-constant basis, to make sure that Li always felt safe – or as close to safe as Li could ever feel – around him. To help him come down from his panics whenever he did anything, to anticipate what might upset him and intervene before it would. Every word and every interaction was carefully cultivated, but the bond between them had to be _real_ , too, not just Li bonding with a projection Jet put out to protect him while Jet was too busy lying to actually know _Li_ , and not just his lists of triggers.

But there was a shitty part of him tucked in a corner of his heart that ignored what Li needed from him - what Jet had to be because if he wasn’t Li would leave and Li would _die._ But there was still a part of him just dying to know everything:

Why was the Fire Nation after _Li_ as well as the Blue Spirit?

Who taught him to fight like that?

How did he do his sneaky ninja thing? Would he teach them?

_(Who made him like this and what could Jet do to hurt them?_

_What happened that made him alone?_

_How did he get his scar?_

_Did he have anyone else to turn to? Had he ever?)_

He pushed the questions away, never let them show on his face. Li would only snarl and snap at the kindest ones; might run at the harsher ones.

It didn’t stop him from wondering at night, or in the early mornings when Li left to… do something Jet couldn’t risk asking about.

Sometimes he found the questions on his tongue when he let himself wonder a little too long and Li looked at him with his shields half-lowered. He bit down on them, told himself _later_ when he knew it was _never_.

Li needed his help – and he needed to trust him to accept it.

Jet ignored the selfish curiosity even as it burned, and never asked questions.

***

Li disappeared sometime mid-afternoon. This was normal Li behaviour, but it never failed to give Jet a heart attack – would _this_ be the time he decided not to come back?

He could never be completely sure that he’d see him again after he left his sight; he’d only promised to stick with them to the next town, said he _wasn’t opposed_ to staying on with them after, and they hadn’t spoken about it since. They’d passed through half a dozen towns since then, and Li hadn’t promised anything more.

Surely, he would say goodbye if he chose to leave, would give Jet a chance to change his mind and shove coins in his bag, but… there was always the slightest chance that he wouldn’t. Jet couldn’t _stand_ it, but Rule Number Four _(Don’t Ask Questions)_ kept him from doing anything to reassure himself. He couldn’t risk letting Li misinterpret his questions, or panic over being asked them - not with a topic this sensitive.

When the sun was close to setting and Li still hadn’t returned, he decided enough was enough. Something might have happened to him, after all.

(As he left he looked at their camp, looked at Li’s bag and mask, looked at his beloved Song, dozing in the long grass. He’d never leave her behind, wouldn’t leave his things behind.

Not unless he wanted to get a head start on them - trick them into thinking he was still around and run off somewhere they would never find him. They never could find him when he didn’t want to be found.)

He’d barely stepped outside of camp when the obvious answer came to him: Li was guarding the turtleduck pond. He didn’t trust them not to eat them even after he asked them not to. Had Jet given in to him too easily? Did Li really think he was just pretending? What had he done wrong?

He made his way back to the pond he and the others had found earlier in the day, trying to figure out what to say to Li, how to explain that they wouldn’t do that after they promised they wouldn’t. (If nothing else, Jet had been vigilant in being honest with Li; if Li wouldn’t even trust him to keep his word, how could he hope to fix anything else?)

Would it be enough that none of them had gone to the pond? Was he breaking his trust by going to the pond now – would he think he was there to kill them?

He broke through the treeline into the small clearing and felt his worry evaporate into glee.

[Li was asleep, curled up on his side on the grass facing the pond, covered in baby turtleducks.](https://foiblepnoteworthy.tumblr.com/post/614952339931021312/id-li-was-asleep-curled-up-on-his-side-on-the) Two were snoozing in his half-cupped hands; one was snuggled in between his shoulder and his neck; several were dotted across the length of his back. One sat on the ground in front of his chin, the fluff on the back of its head disturbed by Li’s gentle breaths.

The fading sunlight streamed between the trees behind him, surrounding him in a soft halo. The pink-purple sunset reflected from the sky to the pond to his face, the colour moving in dappled waves like the water it came from.

He looked so peaceful.

But he couldn’t sleep here. The ground was hard and slightly muddy, and Li was lying somewhat awkwardly, presumably to keep the turtleducks from falling off. He’d end up cold and sore and wet in the morning.

“Li.” He stepped closer, reminding himself not to touch him when he didn’t know it was coming (Rule Number Seven).

Li made a grumbling noise in response, starting to turn over before stopping as he dislodged a turtleduck on his back.

“Li, you can’t sleep here,” Jet couldn’t keep himself from smiling. “Come back to camp.”

“’m staying here.”

“You need to wake up.”

“Let me be a duck.”

Jet mostly held back his laugh. Li didn’t seem to notice it.

Another turtleduck moved from his back. The ones in his hands woke up and looked at Jet, indignant that he was disturbing their rest and stealing their perch.

“You’re not a turtleduck, Li, you need to get up.”

He leaned down and, gently as he could, shook Li’s shoulder. The shake moved through his back, knocking off even more turtleducks. They turned their pointy beaks to him and quacked their annoyance.

He was startled out of his good mood by a vicious bite to his ankle. He just barely managed to stifle his cry of pain, enough not to alarm the others back at camp, but Li was suddenly wide awake, frozen where he lay, alert for danger but _still_ not wanting to disturb the remaining turtleducks.

“Sorry,” Jet whispered, as though he hadn’t been trying to wake him, and looked down to see the mother turtleduck clamped down tightly on his ankle. He took a grip on her shell and pulled her off, the action taking more effort than he would ever admit, and lost his balance, falling down on his butt.

The turtleduck in his hands proceeded to try to bite his fingers off. He quite liked his fingers, and would never live it down if he lost them to a turtleduck, but couldn’t find a way to stop her that wouldn’t hurt her.

Li plucked her from his hands and set her back in the pond. All the turtleducks followed her in.

Or, most of them did. Somehow, there was still one on his shoulder, still asleep.

Li sat cross-legged next to him, slumped with sleep-fogginess, overlooking the pond.

Jet rubbed at his ankle. There would be a bruise, but hopefully nothing worse than that. “Why’d she do that?” he grumbled.

Li gave a huff of a laugh. “That’s just how mothers are.” There was something in his voice, softer than he was expecting, and he didn’t think it was the sleep. “You upset her babies.” It was a wistfulness, some sense of longing. He was saying more than his words implied.

Jet didn’t ask.

Li took the turtleduck from his shoulder and set it in the pond. It immediately tried to crawl back over to him, and he nudged it further in, gently. “You need to be with your mother, Sweet Pea.”

Li’s expression was the gooiest thing Jet had ever seen, smile so wide and wobbly it was almost a frown, brow gently curved upwards, body relaxed. That wet emotion rose in Jet’s chest again, and he dared to sit closer to Li, their thighs touching. Li leaned into the touch.

They sat there for a while, watching the turtleducks play.

“Can I ask you something, Li?” Jet asked. “It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”

Li tensed for a moment, but relaxed again, watching the pond. “Okay.”

“Do you think you can stay? Keep travelling with us to Ba Sing Se?”

Li refused to look at him. His jaw clenched. He took a deep breath, focusing on petting the turtleducks that kept climbing into his lap.

“I-” he started. “I think I want to.” He turned to look at Jet. “I want to stay with you guys.”

Jet started to smile-

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos comment subscribe to the main series which will now be in order woo!
> 
> (guys. guys the series is actually in order now do you understand that?)
> 
> (*blows kisses to my regulars* I see you and I love you and I am trying to reply to comments more I promise)
> 
> If anyone has any critique or whatever, esp to do with how I've written these characters and their relationships, I would appreciate it. This is mostly for fun but also because I want to practise writing and get better. This community is great for affirmation but not so much for constructive criticism, so anything you have to offer would be awesome. 
> 
> Schedule Update! The plan is to try to update every two weeks, however, part 5 has to be split into 3 parts for pacing reasons and stuff, but they're not big enough updates to warrant 2 week waits, so i am going to be updating weekly for the next month! Little chapters but still. and its all gonna be fluff.
> 
> I've got some drawings for this chapter on my Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/foiblepnoteworthy

**Author's Note:**

> kudos comment subscribe there'll be another chapter its short but oh well  
> (I hope my regulars understand that I would die for them because I so would y'all are amazing)
> 
> longshot's dream was being an artist I just couldn't fit it in don't y'all think he'd be a good artist if he had the chance I do
> 
> I was planning on putting this up tomorrow but I wanted to put it up today so here it is. Next one will be in two weeks so that's the 9th of April (but I'm hoping to get something else out in the nonevil twin series before then, so I'm not just going dark)
> 
> my Tumblr, which consists of me occasionally talking about my writing and doing fanart for other fanfics but sometimes for my own fics: https://foiblepnoteworthy.tumblr.com/


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